


Gifts, Old and New

by apostapals (apostapal)



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, Gender-Neutral Hawke, M/M, Other, awakening gifts were good and pure and i loved them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-27
Updated: 2016-07-27
Packaged: 2018-07-27 02:39:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7600267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apostapal/pseuds/apostapals
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hawke heard about how Anders couldn't keep the cat but they never expected there would be other gifts he got during his warden days.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gifts, Old and New

There’s two things Anders never seems to be without; a small golden ring with silver etchings and the most brightly colored scarf Hawke’s ever seen.

They ask about them once, catching sight of the chain the ring hangs on and the fabric of the scarf tucked into the collar of Anders’ robes. The mage laughs, seemingly startled, and raises a brow at them.

“These things? How’d you even notice?” he asks.

Hawke shrugs. “The scarf is hard to miss.” they reply, “And the ring falls out sometimes and catches the light.”

“I see.” Anders hums, considering the question, “I’ll tell you about them some other day, I think.”

It drops for a long while, though Hawke’s curiosity is hardly sated. Eventually, though, they forget and aren’t reminded until they notice the chain still around Anders’ neck, ring dangling from it, when he crawls into their bed one night.

“You ever going to tell me what this is?” they ask, catching hold of the chain and using it to pull him closer.

Anders gives a husky laugh and hovers above them for a moment, looking thoughtful. Seeming to decide something, he ducks down and buries his face against their neck.

“It was a gift.” he explains, breath hot on their skin, “For Justice.”

“Justice?” they ask, completely enthralled in his words rather than where his hands are headed, “What about the scarf?”

The tattered fabric sits lovingly draped across the headboard above them. Anders gives a sightly frustrated noise, clearly wanting to focus on other matters, and nods against their shoulder.

“That one was for me.” he says.

“From who?”

“The Warden-Commander.”

His hands squeeze at their hips, lips trailing kisses along their collarbone, and Hawke’s somehow still focused on this subject.

“Still hanging on to old sentiment... Do you miss the wardens, then?” Hawke’s voice betrays their teasing intent now. Anders raises up on his hands and stares down at them a moment before sighing.

“Well, not at this _particular moment_. But thank you for making the mood awkward by making me think about them.” he drawls, narrowing his eyes at them.

Hawke laughs and reaches up, flinging their arms around his neck and pulling him back down.

“I’m sorry.” they murmur against his cheek, fingers tangling in his hair, “Promise to tell me the rest of the story later?”

“Of course.” Anders replies and presses a kiss to their shoulder, “But first, let’s focus on what _you’re_ wearing. Or... not wearing.”

 

“The ring has lyrium etched in it; it calms Justice.” Anders explains later—much later, while Hawke combs their fingers through his hair in the morning light, “Said he could hear it singing. I kept it because it can soothe him when I feel him getting restless.”

Hawke presses their lips to his shoulder and gives a small 'mmhm' to indicate they're listening.

“And the scarf, ah...” he trails off, chuckling faintly.

“It's nice. But it doesn't seem lyrium ring quality of sentimental.” Hawke remarks.

Anders just shrugs. “Oh, not to you. But I couldn't take the cat or the fancy griffon feather pauldrons she got me so... it had to do. It's nice. One of the first real gifts I ever got.”

“That's quite a few gifts there.” Hawke says, carefully pulling Anders' hair back into its usual style, “I should catch up.”

“I have you, love. You shouldn't think you have to give me anything else.”

“Still, I could do something fancy. Some new pauldrons. Maybe some nice jewelry. And something red, you _definitely_ need something red.”

“My old pauldrons are fine, thank you.” Anders replies, shifting to face Hawke, “And Darktown is no place for me to go tromping about wearing gold rings and necklaces.”

“Any preferences on your red gift, spoil sport?” Hawke asks and leans forward to press a kiss to Anders' chin, “Or are you going to ruin that to?”

Anders just laughs and replies, “Surprise me. That's what all the best gifts are.”


End file.
